


How To Be A Hunter In The Fifth Fleet

by Sanroumeepok



Series: Monster Hunter Worh! [1]
Category: Monster Hunter (Video Games)
Genre: Astera, F/F, F/M, Fifth Fleet, Gen, Handler, Hunter - Freeform, I actually play with these hunters IRL, It's debatable if they are worse IRL or here, Original Player Characters, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:57:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sanroumeepok/pseuds/Sanroumeepok
Summary: Two hunters bite off more than they can chew in the Rotten Vale





	1. Dog Trouble

“Shit. Over there - Odogaron at 2 O’Clock. We should avoid unnecessary confrontation with him–“

_ Ftoooo… Blrak _. An easily recognisable sound of the slinger, firing a scatternut and landing a hit. Spacebars panics, and turns to his partner.

“Beatrice! What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Hahah. Hi doggy~”

Garon winced in pain, and responds to provocation the way any rabid 12-metre long fanged wyvern would know: A deafening screech. Spacebars covers his ears whilst cursing his trigger-happy partner. _ It was supposed to be a simple expedition _ , he thought. _ Just a little look-see in the Rotten Vale, hunt the elusive Petricanths, and go home _. Fate (and Beatrice), however, had other plans.

20-minutes of intense battle and a choppy wingdrake ride later, Spacebars lay exhausted on the ground, while Beatrice walks toward the resource centre ever so casually. The other researchers of Fifth trudged from the gates too. Behind them a sleeping Odogaron, secured into a large pallet, ready for the researchers to begin their close-up analysis. Their handlers stormed off to the direction of the Gathering Hub, saying something about a disappointing day needing tea to calm their nerves. 

“Lololol. GGEZ. We got that doggie gud. Chill man.”

“Or. We could have avoided the entire confrontation altogether.”

“Meh. What’s life without a bit of action?” If action meant ruining a perfectly uneventful expedition by being chased by a rabid red dog around rotten vale, getting immobilised by paratoads in the area getting flung across a cavern by its unpredictable movements, Spacebars would have none on that. Meanwhile, Beatrice debates that “it’s still stealth if nobody lives to talk about it!”

That was the last time Spacebars would ever trust Beatrice with stealth.


	2. My First Paolumu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going into High Rank isn't easy. Taking the fall from a flying bat-mouse isn't hard.

The light that illuminates Coral Highlands has always given it an exceptionally magical vibe. Spores drifting in the upcurrent, elegant coral birds drinking coral sap, medusos drifting in the wind. All of which would be quite the sight if not for–

_ FWOOSH!! _

“ _ Jijjuz _ , that gust of wind cancelled my ult!”

“It’s always the mid-swing aye? I’m going in!”

Intonoodles and Spacebars are in their weapon trials again: this time with Noodles using her charge blade,  _ Dear Lutemis _ , and Spacebars using his switch axe,  _ Flammenbel _ . In a war against all things cute and fluffy, Paolumu just seemed like the right target. It had a collar that would inflate and expand to the shape of a giant cotton ball, tempting them to have a go at robbing that pelt.

Intonoodles began her assault on the Paolu with a charged swing, morphing her sword-and-shield into an axe. She missed her roundhouse swing and was just about to unload her phials in a single hammer slash, but Paolumu had spat a bullet of air at the floor beneath her, causing an unnatural updraft. It would be quite a while before she can successfully charge the phials required for both her blade and shield, if she intends to execute her ace discharge again.

“Aye try doing a half-mount!” She cried. Getting interrupted mid-swing would always trigger hunters. This time, however, they would have it’s head.

Spacebars rushes in, morphing into sword mode as Paolumu hovers closer to the ground. He does a cross slash. It connects. Now’s the time. “Take this,” he said.  _ Flammenbel _ is thrust forward for an elemental discharge, the charge in the blade seething through its edges. Just one problem : It’s a miss. Paolumu made a quick ascension, directly above the two. The fluff bat performed a forward somersault, sending it’s entire body weight to the ground beneath it. 

Neither of them survived the body slam, and were both rushed back to camp via the fleet’s palico cart. While they struggle to stand, the memory of Paolumu smirking at their states before going unconscious would scar them for awhile.


	3. Summer and Fireflies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Properly introducing Intonoodles and her handler, Hotaru ~

Intonoodles never liked Summer. In the day, it is sweltering hot and it gets stuffy under her armour. Perspiration is a given, but sweat builds up in all sorts of places. _ All _ sorts of places. Not to mention being swarmed by revoltures gliding overhead. AND. ALL. THE. COBALT. BUTTERFLIES. By the Sapphire Star there has never been a more disturbing sight than a flying death trap in glittered wings. Gods forbid that anyone would even consider butterflies to be _ pretty _. So when the Fifth Fleet decided to assign the embodiment of Summer to her side, Intonoodles knew being a hunter was gonna be a drag. 

The Fifth Fleet had ensured that all new hunters would be assigned a handler to keep track of their progress during quests. In a way, one could call it a ‘buddy system’. Not that Intonoodles ever had any trouble making a buddy out of her handler, but Hotaru is not quite on the same wavelength as her just yet. Hotaru loved Summer. She likes sunny days. She loves working up a good sweat to make the most of the long days. Most of all, she absolutely adores–

“BUTTERFLIES!!” went the _ sunshine _ girl.

“BUTTERFLIES!!” went the _ sunwhine _ girl. Intonoodles’ hair frizzed up as she did a quick duck. “Are they gone?” she asked, “Where are they now??” She turned around to look and there it was, roosting on Hotaru’s yellow diamond glove. Hotaru admires its cobalt sheen, then offers her pale-skinned partner a close up by her arm closer. The startled hunter let out a soft squeal and fell on her butt. “NOOOOOO!!”   
  
“Even though they are pretty, harmless, beings?” asked the handler in the yellow butterfly dress.   
  
“They are anything _ but _ pretty, harmless beings,” Intonoodles rebuked, “they’re just blood-sucking monsters pretending to be innocent beauties.” 

“Well, that’s just how it is for them. That’s their way of life – however different from ours it may be, and that’s fine isn’t it?” Hotaru tucked the tails of her iridescent yellow butterfly vest to her thighs and squatted down to level with her hunter. “Butterflies live fleeting lives, you see. Cobalt Butterflies can only live for two weeks at most when they’re all grown up. They don’t have very long to live, but they have to do their best to travel across the world to find their partners. In that sense, hunters are no different,” she poked the crouching hunter’s forehead and beamed the biggest, brightest smile, “don’t you think?”

_ Oh my stars, _ thought Intonoodles, biting her lip. _ This girl is actually pretty cute. If I’m not careful she might catch me off-guard. _ She snapped back to her senses, and jumped straight up. She tries really hard to maintain her composure, without showing that she is now mildly lightheaded from the blood rushing up to her head from that sudden jump.

“*Ahem* let’s go. We have a mission to do.” 

Intonoodles drops off from her barnos after an hour’s journey to land in the Coral Highlands. Her right knee and hand cushioned the landing, the iron plates on her anja greaves making a ‘clink’ sound as it hits the rocky floor. Undoing the knot on her collar, she removes the fur cape and dusted off the particles of pink coral that clumped up around the hairs. “Wahlao, I really should change this armour to something else,” she grumbled. She had only gotten the Anjanath armour for a few weeks, but “I’m getting bored. A new wardrobe would be great, plus Anjanath doesn’t suit me much.”

“That’s not true!” chimed a Hotaru confidently. She casually passes Intonoodles with a pat on the shoulder, then stopping in front of her amethyst-eyed hunter. “I think pink suits you! It complements your red hair and purple eyes!” Her golden yellow hair glitters mid-sentence. It’s almost unreal. Hotaru went on, “Plus, it shows off your toned belly!”   
  
Intonoodles can feel her cheeks getting unbearably hot. _ Be careful my ass, she did it again! _ Her thoughts are almost audible this time. Hotaru, seizing a chance to tease her, asked “Ah! Are you blushing?”   
  
“NO!” exclaimed the tomato. “IT’S JUST MY FACE PAINT!”

Hotaru laughs and runs off, jumping across the coral platforms. “Seems more like you need to work out more! Come and get me!” 

Just as the pink hunter began to give chase, her scoutflies dashed out of their cage and towards her energetic handler. A sudden gust of icy wind bursts forth. Emerging from the canyon, a winged figure of silver and blue soars up and spins its wings open. Legiana makes its presence known with a piercing screech. 

Intonoodles never liked Summer. In the day, it is sweltering hot and it gets stuffy under her armour. Perspiration is a given, but sweat builds up in all sorts of places. _ All _ sorts of places. At night however, is where the fireflies show their brilliance. With a firefly by her side, maybe Summer might just be a little more bearable.


	4. I couldn't be assed to hunt with a Handler but here I am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spacebars and his handler made quite the first impression on each other

“ _ Attention to: Spacebars. As you are already aware, all hunters registering for the New World Research Commission, Fifth Fleet are to be assigned a handler as a safety number. However, you have been acting independently in the time you have spent exploring the new world. The Commission has been very lenient with you. Please register a handler within the next 7 days or you will be deported back to  _ _ Val Habar _ _ . With regards, Hanayo. Head Handler, Research Commission. P.S. I’m not keen on spending resources to ferry people to and from the New World. Do it Speck, or I’m burning you alive (:” _

The messenger Mernos flew off into the canopy, presumably in the direction of Astera. The moss-headed man tousled his already disheveled hair and sighed. “Damn that woman,” he said, “if she has time to send notices like this, she should be spending time looking for that stowaway everyone’s been talking about.” Spacebars rolled up the parchment and tucked it in the pouch behind him. It has been a long and boring investigation – to capture an Anjanath in the Ancient Forest. One would think that a brute wyvern 3-decks high would not be hard to find, but after a dozen stains of mucus, and a dozen more chipped fangs, Spacebars has seen neither head nor hide of this pink dinosaur. The sun sets pretty quickly here in the New World too.  _ Ending the investigation early wouldn’t that bad an idea, _ he thought, until he heard the erratic rustling of trees coming from the direction of the grotto. Spacebars put up his mask and hood and laid low in the bushes.

Out came a wild– hunter?! The stranger burst through the vines, tumbling through the shallow stream and startling the Kestodons in the process. Spacebars tried to make out a face, but the bamboo hat has done well in keeping his identity hidden. The hunter draws his blade from a long wooden scabbard, ready to engage the hard-headed beasts. If only that were the case, a large, pink dinosaur breaks into the grotto the same way that stranger came from. Its nosebone popped up and snorted out a column of fire. A flamethrower. Made with sinus. _A_ _phlegmthrower_. Spacebars watched as the unco peerlessly dodged each blaze and bite, inching ever closer to the Anjanath but never going in for a strike. The Kestodons had all but escaped, cooked to doneness after that _phlegmthrower_. At last, a chance! The stranger grips his sword for a horizontal swing, but something is amiss: his arms trembling, his blade unsteady; he is hesitant.

“Look out!” cries Spacebars as he sends a golden hornet towards Anjanath with a swing of his glaive. Pink-and-Feisty gets stabbed in its beady eyes and stumbled backwards, enough time for him to run in and pull the hunter out with a Mernos. Once up and in the air, Spacebars takes the time to check the stranger out – red silk armguards, a navy-blue sleeveless practice robe, and a matching pair or navy over red hakama3 pants, and an orange sash? _Can this even be considered armour? And not to mention this oriental style… Probably not from around here._ _I wonder why he didn’t go in for the kill though…_

“Let go,” murmured a voice from beneath him. Spacebars was sure he had heard it as a soft honey voice, almost feminine even. Strange.

“What?”

“I said let go!” came the honey voice. It definitely came from the stranger, seeing as he– er, she– seeing as she started flailing and struggling to remove herself from Mr.Green-All-Over. A bad plan of action when flying overhead at 5-decks above ground. The disturbed Mernos loses control of its gliding and starts to lose altitude. They might not make not back it back to Astera at this rate.

“What in Sapphire Star’s light are you doing?! We’re going to crash, stop!”

“I can handle myself well so! Let! Go! Of! Me! You damned Mossman!!”

“Are you you fucking insane? Just hold on until we reach AsteRALDFBLBLZSCKSJFB–” Spacebars had yet to finish his sentence before they crashed through the tree branches and he became one with the forest. The two tumbled, fumbled, and eventually stumbled their way back to the gates of Astera. The Mernos, having been taken for ride, frantically takes off, but not before giving them an angry shriek. Spacebars stands up, clearly scarred for life, and brushes the dust off his Pukei-Pukei pelt armour. Meanwhile, his new ‘friend’ is already sat upright, checking her blade for scratches, casually ignoring his presence altogether. “Excuse you, we almost died back there.”

“Okay first of all,” she starts, “there’s no  _ we _ . There’s only  _ me _ , and I was doing fine back there. Second of all, you can do whatever you want. Just don’t bother me. I prefer to be left alone.”

“Well that’s fine by me I wasn’t looking for people anyway.”

“Cool.”   


“Cool!”

“Cool!” hollered a familiar voice coming from the tradeyard. Green headband, white scarf, green waistcoat, totally impractically tucked on her left breast button–  _ yep, it’s her. And just after getting a letter from her, no less. _ “Welcome back Speck~ You finally decided to return from your hunt. I thought you had died out there so I sent out a messenger Mernos after you! I see you don’t have a handler yet though. Makes me think you aren’t serious about aiding the Commission in its goals. Pouty face~”

“Woman! I only just got your mail, what kind of Elder Melder alchemy do you expect me to d—“ the Head Handler did not let Spacebars finish. Rather, the force of her palm slapping the back of his head is probably what interrupted his sentence. 

“I have name you know~ If you aren’t going to use it, then at least address me by my appointment sweetie!” Hanayo turned her attention to the disinterested huntress in the back. “And who is this? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before… Oh! You’re the stowaway from Yukumo!” 

It was only for a second, but she had a sword drawn and pointed by the Head Handler’s neck. “Are you going to force me back?” she asked.

“Now now, that’s no way to speak to your management~ Well, I’m not too keen on it since the Argosy isn’t going north any time soon.”

She retracts the katana and slides it down its scabbard. “Then please leave me alone.” 

“–however, I’m not very keen on letting you run off on your own either.”   
  
“Excuse me?”

“SO WITH EFFECT FROM TODAY, YOU’LL BE THIS BOY’S HANDLER!!”

“What?” A synchronised response from the two hunters. Spacebars seemed to want to raise an objection, but was promptly silenced by yet another slap to the head.

“Right now, Speck here needs a hunter. And you here,  _ YoungLadyWhoHasn’tHadTheCourtesyOfIntroducingHerself _ , need a pair of watchful eyes. I can’t think of a better solution for the two of you. Besides, if either of you mess this up, I can remove the both of you immediately. Package deal~” Hanayo seems proud of herself. Then again, if you were in charge of managing a fleet of strangers from all over the old world and band them together to track Zorah Magdaros, you’d be proud of every minor achievement you make.

The moss-coloured hunter gave a heavy sigh, pulled down his mouthpiece and hood, and held out his hand. “I’m just doing this so i can stay on this continent. My name’s Spacebars, or Speck for short. Let’s work well together.”

Keeping her hat low, she ignored the chance for a handshake, and instead looked away from her new partner. “I couldn’t be assed to help with your predicament, but here I am.”

“And your name is…?”

“...Hifumi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Hanayo the Head Handler is the Serious Handler in the Monster Hunter World Series  
2\. Spacebars estimated Anjanath’s height by ‘decks’ on the vessel that he sailed in, decks being a nautical term referring to the ‘floors’ or ‘storeys’. For estimation, 1-deck is roughly 2.5 metres high.  
3\. The grotto refers Area 10, with the hanging boulders.  
4\. Hakama are wide-cutting pants used in japanese martial arts for training.


	5. Dear Ma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hera clearly hasn't forgiven Beatrice for giving her more work with that Odogaron incident.

_ Heh heh heh… Welcome to my paradise! Just look at this breathtaking scenery. Can you smell that fresh air? *Sniffs* Kuhuu~!! Simply addictive! Oh sorry, where are my manners? Hello everybody, Beatrice here! Live at the Wonderful Wildspire! It’s been a refreshing pre-dawn session of cat-and-mouse with our friends: Barbara, Julie, Rachel, and Diana. Let’s hand over the mic to th— “ _ Ow! What’s up Hera?”

“You were monologuing.”  _ Annoying as usual. Here we are miles from home and here you are making a game out of it.  _

_ Counting all the sand in the Wildspires will never amount to the number of seconds I spend thinking of Moga. The glistening waters… the smell of sea salt… Ma and Pa… If you could hear me, I really miss you. The New World is chock full of vibrant flora and fauna! Folks here are all about that Fiver Spirit! Everybody here is nice and kind and full of good vibes! Everyone, except— _

_ _ Hera looks on as the blonde-haired woman spits on the retractable bayonet on her gunlance, then proceeds to shine it with her gauntlets. “I coulda sworn I was using my inside voice. No matter, where are my little playthings?”

_ —except for her. Message start : Dear Ma and Pa, Hestia, Detemer, drunk men by the docks, and sweet Chaka. How are you all? Wanchovy season is coming, and the annual Gastronome Tuna competition is round the corner isn’t it? Demeter might win this year, but only because I’m out in the New World. Count your blessings sis! My new partner is… hard to describe. She’s everything the rumours say. She’s knowledgeable of the terrain, her fighting instinct clues her in on what a new monster is likely to do, and her skill with the gunlance is unparalleled. After all, I did pair with her so that I can climb to the ranks of the top Hunter-Handler pairs. _

The bespectacled handler, observing her tan-armoured friend, points one hand in front of her to the pile of monster carcasses, and another hand to her right corner - the entrance to a cavern. The two exchange looks, and even though no words left their lips, a conversation could be heard. “You’re standing on them.” “Ah, so I was.” “There’s another one this way. What are you gonna do?” “Ahh. Let’s go.” 

_Message : Being the handler to Beatrice… _**_The_**_ Beatrice,_ _the Infallible Gunlance… It can be really difficult. She runs off on her own, her fighting style is so unconventional, and she shows no respect for the monsters she fights??? She’s clearly empathetic but not where it counts. Pulling out a bag of astera jerky whenever a turf war happens, then just finishing off the survivor with an ambush wyvern fire… I couldn’t be more appalled with her code of conduct. “Form a contract with Beatrice,” they said. “It’ll be fun,” they said. The folks here said I’d be tagging with a ‘Tactical Genius’! What would they think if they found out I partnered with a maniac?_

“Hera.”

“What?”

“You don’t seem to like me very much.”

The raven-haired handler scoffs and utters a single word, “Nonsense,” before walking ahead of her chaperone. Hera wasn’t sure if it was the desert heat or this crazy bitch, but she definitely felt a blood vessel burst in her head. 

The cavern nest was all but silent. Sand flowed down the sides of the cavern walls, giving the illusion of a grand, tan, waterfall of sand. Augurflies hummed in resonance with their scarlet glow. Beatrice and Hera tread the slippery to approach a hulking yellow mass of thick, reptilian shell. Luckily for them, Diana was sleeping off her wounds from a brutal game of tag with Beatrice. Judging from the cracked spine, broken horns, and lack of a tail, it’s pretty clear who’s winning.

“Look at the state of this Diablos,” lamented the handler, “ you’ve toyed with her enough. Now put her out of her misery.”

Beatrice drew out her gunlance and ignited its muzzle. The blue flame was pointed to Diana’s skull, building up for a devastating Wyvern Fire. Overwhelming defeat is guaranteed once she pulls the trigger. She turns to her handler for a last go ahead, but the latter had her back turned, shoulders tense and knuckles clenched. 

The sleeping sun sets the sky ablaze in crimson hues. The Wildspire cools with each passing breeze, the day’s heat chasing an eternal horizon. The noios have roosted, and the apceros fast asleep by their eggs. This audial limbo had gone on ever since Diana, and as Beatrice and Hera traverse the dunes in tandem, the worn huntress is the first to break the silence. “Maybe it’s disappointment that I’m feeling from you. Hera, you seem to have some sort of expectations toward me, and I’m not delivering it.”

Hera’s continued silence can only mean that Beatrice was right on the money, something she would rather  _ not  _ be right about. “Please don't set up some grandiose image of a huntress and chide me for not being her. I am me, and nobody else.”

“But you’re a rising star of the Fifth Fleet! You’re one of many hunters and huntresses paving the way for this expedition! Everybody’s looking at you – you’re  _ supposed to  _ set a standard for them to follow—“

“And what of it? All these bitches choose to look up. It’s a  _ choice _ . I choose to hunt in my own way. I choose to be unrefined in my approach. Being a rising star for the Fifth? That is not a choice. I didn’t sail to the New World just to be sensitive to these snowflakes.” Beatrice turned around, her azure hair shining silver by the scarlet horizon. “I’m just here to hunt monsters.”

There was a silence that followed. A long unsettling silence, before Hera noticed. In the time she had spent looking sullen and defeated,    
_ Message start : Hi Ma, hi Pa! Thanks for your well wishes! Sorry to hear that Demeter left the village to explore the New World too, at least you still have little Hestia. Beatrice? Well, turns out I was right about her, but I that’s fine. Don’t sweat it though! Imma do my best however I can! Things can only get more interesting in uncharted seas right?” _


	6. I'm A Phantom Thief Now?!

The Head Handler is behaving rather odd lately. As a <strike> constant nuisance to her day to day operations </strike> trusted colleague and confidant, Spacebars would know that much. Hanayo loves mosswine don. It borders on obsession. It was <strike> the leading cause of her weight gain </strike> the reason her smile can shine like 10 million augurflies when talking to rookies. So it comes as no surprise that Spacebars’ flags went off after seeing her grimace at the sight of a piping hot bowl of mosswine don. The Head Handler walks out of the canteen with nothing but a handful of paintberries, possibly headed to her quarters. 

“What are you doing, Speck?” a voice from behind inquires. The obviously guilty stalker reacts like a soldier helmcrab and turns around, startled. His aggressor? Intonoodles, with Hotaru peeking from behind her.

Spacebars explains the situation, making sure not to leave out that <strike> Hanayo wasn’t wearing her pants which made her poogle-print underwear glaringly obvious when a draft picks up and lifts her blouse from below the cummerbund </strike> the Head Handler has been more than just a little absent-minded. The two detectives nodded and assessed the situation, putting every word into consideration. It was about halfway through his report that Spacebars realised Hotaru was starting to grin wider and wider. _ Fuck. This will not go well. _

The first verbal response that fell on the table was “_ Creep” _ from Hifumi who, for her own reasons, was tailing Spacebars from an audible distance. 

“So what you’re saying,” Intonoodles asked, “is you need help breaking into the Head Handler’s chambers?” She had never realised that Spacebars <strike> was a sexual deviant. Imagine: her own squad mate! The horror! The number of times he must have been peeking at her when she changes her tassets! They will have a serious talk after this </strike> was so close with Head Handler Hanayo. Given the circumstances, it would be more appropriate to ask her directly. The prospect of stealth and espionage, on the other hand…

“A chance to be Phantom Thieves? We’ll do it!” exclaimed Hotaru, bursting with excitement. This was unsurprisingly met with protest from Intonoodles, who had a whole day off from hunting to <strike> spend some quality alone-but-together time with her favourite honey-haired handler </strike> build a better synergy with Hotaru. Clearly, the latter was not having it as a valid excuse, and pouts her way to her hunter’s good side, and most of her heart too. Spacebars, in the moment of it all, wonders <strike> if this is what it’s like to have someone interested in him </strike>if he could get his way too if he whined as adorably as Hotaru could, and smirked to himself.

1 hour and a quick costume change later, the four of them met back by the corridor to the Fifth Fleet’s Committee Quarters. Whispers filled the corridor as they scuttled around inconspicuously, like mice through the pipeways. “Hifumi,” Spacebars whispered, “we’re going to do some real shady stuff. You don’t have to come with us.”

“Is that so? Thank you. I appreciate your warning. But why the FUCK are you only telling me this AFTER suiting up? AND WHAT’S WITH THIS GET UP?!” Hifumi whispered, angrily.

“You sound like you have a lot on your mind,” said the latex covered hunter, calmly. 

“Yeah. Don’t you find it weird that we’re sneaking into the Head Handler’s quarters while wearing DIVING SUITS?!” 

Hotaru, without skipping a beat, “Because we’re going _ deep undercover _.” and a triumphant grin that made the yellow-eyed handler turn into a white-eyed handler.

“There’s no reason behind it other than it’s a good disguise,” whispered Intonoodles seriously. “We should come up with codenames so we don’t blow our cover.”

“For someone who was reluctant to help, you sure seem invested,” whispered Spacebars as he puts on the diving mask. “_ Cul ik bve gat you akchuawy ryke bveing a schwy? _ (Could it be that you actually like being a spy?)”   
  
Intonoodles blushed the same red as the streaks on her dive suit, with only enough mental capacity to clap-back with “ _ We’re notch schwies, we’re phangtow thiewes! _ (We’re not spies, we’re phantom thieves!)” 

Hotaru leans in to inspect the fine tomato specimen, and with a straight face blurted out, “Hey, you’re cute when you blush.” If they were really underwater, Intonoodles might have swallowed water from dropping her jaw like that.

“ANYWAY,” whispered Hifumi with Odogaron intensity, “you might think it’s easy to break into a room, but things are different when the room is occupied. I’ve tried. So here’s the plan:   
Step 1. Skydive (Spacebars) and Tandem (myself) will station ourselves by the cliff.  
Step 2. Skinnydip (Intonoodles) and Butterfly (Hotaru) will knock on the door and hide from the ceiling.  
Step 3. Once the Head Handler opens the door, Skinnydip will throw a rock at the end of the corridor to create a diversion.  
Step 4. Once she leaves, Skinnydip and Butterfly will go in. Butterfly will stand vigil by the door to let us know if she’s coming back.  
Step 5. In the meantime, Skinnydip will signal us (Skydive and Tandem) and we’ll swoop in via slinger.  
Step 6. Then, we’ll each take one corner of the room. Skydive will search her gardens; I will search the desk, and Skinnydip will search her cabinets. Find any clues and hints of what may be wrong with her, then vacate when Butterfly gives the signal to let us know the Head Handler’s coming back.

Any questions?”

Spacebars : What in Lunastra’s blue blazes were you doing before coming to Astera?

Hifumi : Irrelevant. Next.

Intonoodles : I regret giving ourselves names like Skinnydip and Butterfly. *shudders* Can we change it?

Hifumi : Irrelevant. Next.

Hotaru : The door’s ajar.

Hifumi : Not even a question. What?

Hotaru was right. The Head Handler’s doors opened inward from the middle, ever so slightly. The group took turns peeking through the gap. Inside the room however, stood a large feathered fowl. Standing just shy of a Pukei-Pukei’s height, its azure down was deep as the evening sky, a mesmerising sheen that resembles the stars. The bird pecks away at the bowl of nuts and berries from the Head Handler’s arms. Meanwhile, she stares motionless; emotionless, at the fowl-beast. Her eyes shared the same blue glow.

“Nightcloak… Malfestio…” muttered Hotaru, much to the hunters’ astonishment. As far as they knew, this was a completely new monster. Spacebars reached out to her, snapping her back to her senses but startling her at the same time. A loud gasp and a scuffle later, Murphy’s Law made its way into the formula, and there they were. Collapsed over one another. Doors wide open. Like the Phantom Thieves they were.

Bad idea. Nightcloak Malfestio’s ears prop right up to the commotion, and swivelled its head at the group. It approached them slowly, building the tension by growling rhythmically, his eyes locked on them. Body geared for a low strike, the birdwyvern spread its wings overhead to form a feathered halo, revealing bright amber ‘eyes’ underneath. Hotaru was the first to react. As the rest were scuffling on top of her, she struggled to free herself. Even if it were just her arms, it would be more than enough. 

“Everyone cover your eyes and ears!” She screamed. 

That was it.

“Sky...ve… Skydive… Spacebars… SPACEBARS!”

Spacebars jolted up, disoriented and very much confused as to why someone was screaming his name. “Noodles?” he asked. 

“Get up!” she cried. “The quest isn’t over! Wha-!” Intonoodles yanked him to safety, moments away from a devastating gust of wind. 

Within his view: an equally disoriented Intonoodles; Hifumi, who is still unconscious but looks likes she is experiencing a hellish nightmare; and Hotaru, bruised and bleeding… holding Intonoodles’ dual blades, _ Sin _. Understanding the scenario, he fired a flashpod at the ceiling, startling Malfestio. It hops back one step, and like a phantom thief raising his cape, vanishes with the fold of its wing. He staggers toward Hifumi, cradles her up and holds her close. “It’s okay,” he repeated over and over again, “nothing can hurt you here.”

Meanwhile, Intonoodles walks toward Hotaru, who instinctively drew her blade at its owner. Gently reaching for Hotaru’s hand, she pressed _ Sin _ to her chest and softly remarked, “It’s over now, you don’t have to fight anymore. Let’s go home, okay?”. Just like that, Intonoodles voice disarmed the high-strung handler, and she collapsed onto the floor, adrenaline all burned out.

With the Head Handler awake and back to normal, she sits the squad down to explain the events that had taken place: That the Commission has given intel of a deviant monster from Bherna that had made its way to the New World. Hanayo had intended to research the creature before requesting the guild’s help to capture it, but she herself was caught by Malfestio’s hypnotism. As for the squad, the elusive birdwyvern is also able to cast a potent hypnosis that sends its targets into a terrible dream-like trance. Reports have said that the trance showed victims their worst fear imaginable.

Intonoodles stretched her muscles.They feel like they’ve been asleep for hours. “It’s all thanks to Hotaru that we’re able to break free of that trance,” She said, walking over to give her a hug. “She held her own when we were all down for the count. I’ll give you a special handler’s-only reward later~”

“No,” muttered Hotaru, taking a step back.

For spacebars, there’s nothing he could do. For the strangest reasons, he understands just what it means. Hifumi on the other hand, she was awake, but whatever she saw in that trance…

It destroyed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nightcloak Malfestio causes sleep and confusion in the Monster Hunter canon, so I adapted these status effects to hypnosis and a hallucinating trance.


	7. Girl's Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just 3 handlers taking a much needed break

###  Chapter 7 : Girl’s Day Out

_ She _ sits cross-legged by the round blastnut wood table at the gathering hub. The dark dolour sets a good contrast from  _ her _ olive-green coat.  _ She _ picked a nice cozy spot — one with no other guests in  _ her _ adjacent seats. If any one looked for  _ her _ ,  _ she _ would be right there. Sticking out like a sore green thumb. Writing  _ her _ letters to home. A calculated move by Hera of Moga, as all  _ her _ moves are.  _ She _ tucks  _ her _ spectacles up the bridge of  _ her _ nose and readies  _ her _ pen from  _ her _ green frog pouch. Drawing precisely 5 strokes on a worn piece of cloth before the pen is allowed to touch paper, so that the nib has just enough ink to set and dry when  _ she _ writes or draws. A calculated move by Hera of Moga, as all  _ her _ moves are.

“Sorry we’re late~” chimes a honeyed voice. A wild hare bathed in morning sunshine. She banishes foul moods with her shimmering yellow butterfly tail vest and an equally radiant smile. The soft white fleece of her collar bounces with each stride made, and the fleece on her wrist sleeves rise and fall to the swinging of her hands to fulgurbugs in the mountains. Hotaru is never on time, but nobody should fault the Sapphire Star’s prized creation for being late some 10 minutes. A calculated observation by Hera of Moga, as all  _ her _ observations are.

Following closely behind is the Fifth Fleet’s local enigma. A stowaway turned handler. She dresses nothing like a handler, to be honest. Her black wool vest is thick and elastic, practical for stealth and mobility. Handlers rarely wear a mask, but the bamboo hat she has tied around her head screams ‘low-profile’. The fact that her clothes are extremely unique can be passed by the notion that the Fifth Fleet comprises of individuals from regions far and wide, but there is nothing more suspicious about Hifumi than her  _ hunter’s carving knife _ . Because handlers don’t have a standard-issue knife. A calculated observation by Hera of Moga, as all  _ her _ observations are.

“You made it!” Hera said, turning around to greet them both. 

The grey of the blastnut wood table meets a colourful assortment of food and snacks: Kaiser Turkey, Ballerina Octopus, Moonlit Mushrooms, and 3 jugs of Hunter’s Brew. Hifumi savours her mushrooms with each bite, the soft delicate texture providing a sort of relief for her tired soul. Hera will remember this moment, and illustrate this later that night instead. Looking beside her, she forgot about the sun-kissed child chomping down one octopus after another. It would be oh-so-wise to just have Hotaru finish the whole serving on her own. To be fair, the two of them needed a day off from work. From hunters. Hera could tell, they looked so out of it in the past few days. This catch-up session would be the boost they need to get back on their feet. A calculated move by Hera of Moga, as all  _ her _ moves are.

  
  


Step 1 : Brunch.

“A Malfestio hypnotised the Head Handler?” exclaimed Hera, “I can’t believe so much happened while Beatrice and I were out hunting. Are you two alright? Your scars?”

“Don’t worry! As if these will stop this yay train aye~” gloated Hotaru. Any dip in her energies is quickly compensated with the dazzle of the 11am sun on her iridescent tail vest. “What about you? How was your hunt?”

“Well…”

Hifumi choked on her mushroom. She downed a heavy gulp of Hunter’s Brew to clear her throat, banging the table in discomfort, and again in astonishment. “YOU RODE A DIABLOS BACK TO ASTERA?” 

“SHHH! NOT SO LOUD!!” retorted Hera immediately. The felyne chefs were already staring, the guildmarms shot daggers in their direction, and it would take a while to convince Hotaru that paying for repairs to the Tradeyard gate  _ they _ busted was not worth the adventure. 

Step 2 : Grab supplies from the Tradeyard.

Shopping became much easier than it normally would. Hotaru’s presence alone earned the trio a string of discounts and on-the-house items. “I figured it had to do with work, your down spells,” Hera said to the two, browsing through the freshest exciteshrooms and honey samples. “In Moga we have a saying —  _ It takes a village to raise a child. _ The community is as real a family as your blood relatives, and helping two of my sisters out is only natural.” Hera’s words and gentle confidence sparked a familial emotion in them. Having an older sister to be around is important at times like  _ these _ . 

As they made their purchase, they bid their farewells to the grocer. Hotaru, and wide smile and an energetic wave; Hifumi, a gracious bow; and Hera, clenching her fingers and sticking out her thumb and index finger, forming a tick, and holding it across her cheek. Moga’s intimate practices really do pay off here.

Step 3 : A walk down the Ancient Forest

“Do you have siblings, Hera?” asked Hifumi. 

“2 Sisters in fact: Demeter and Hestia,” reminisced Hera, “Demeter is a year younger, but she’s always trying to catch up to me, whatever that means. I just want her to find her own tide in life, you know?”

“... I see,” they took turns sneaking up on a flock of downy crakes, spontaneously initiated by Hotaru. “Hotaru, you have to conceal your presence,” said Hifumi, a slight chuckle forming. How is it that the person who suggested crake catching is doing so badly at it? “Watch,” Hifumi whispered. She put on her hat, crouched into the tall grass, and lay there. Motionless. “Like a rock. Practically invisible.”

“I don’t think it works like that…” said Hera with a sigh. By the time  _ she _ had finished  _ her _ sentence, Hotaru had crouched next to Hifumi. Her eyes gave off such smouldering intensity that  _ she _ couldn’t help but facepalm at the scene. 

“Like a rock,” Hotaru declared. Hera will remember this moment, and illustrate this later that night.

  
  


Step 4. A dinner barbeque by the coast.

The girls picked a nice lagoon not too far from Astera. Over here, the gastrodons will not interrupt their retreat. Hifumi helped to prepare the barbeque spit, while Hera and Hotaru set up camp. Hera and Hotaru remove their coats so that they it would not smell of fish and ale. Their dinner menu consists of: Marinated Carpaccio, Serpentine Salmon, and a hearty serving of Plumpkins. Hera pulled out all the stops this evening and made drinks too: For Hifumi, Demontater Brew; for Hotaru, Dragonkiller Sake; and for  _ herself _ , Goldenfish Brew. The sun sets on the New World, and they sit back and leaned on each other to enjoy the peaceful sounds as the gentle waves kiss the shore. A calculated move by Hera of Moga, as all  _ her _ moves are. 

Hotaru breaks the silence. “Many a night, Nightcloak Malfestio would raid Bherna. There were very few victims of Malfestio that survived its hypnotic trance, leaving them in limbo until the Guild’s medical team provided treatment. Those that broke the ‘curse’ on their own, though… They always gave the same general idea.”

Hera observes the change in her tone, and asks softly, “What is it?”

There was a pause in Hotaru’s speech, and that moment’s hesitation provided more context for Hera than what followed: “Destroy the nightmare, before it destroys you.”

“Y-you were able to do it, weren’t you?” Hifumi suggested. She had a change in tone too. Just as much hesitation, equal parts lack of confidence, but a heavy dose of fear. “If you could break the b-break out of the nightmare… can you- can you sho—”

“Don’t,” groaned Hera. It is for the best that this can of worms remains closed, for now at least. Whatever she did to destroy her nightmare, whatever triumph she had out of it, the cost was too great, and it showed.

As though a switch has been flipped, Hotaru jumps up. Stretching her tired bones with a squealing sound, she kept her back towards them, and pondered a bit. “Let’s take a quest! One just for the three of us!”

A loud “HUH?!” filled the lagoon. Largely contributed by Hifumi, who thought she was done being surprised by the craziness of today’s conversations.

“Sounds like a great idea!” remarked Hera.  _ It would be good therapy for them both to be able to take control of their fight-or-flight instincts like that. _

Hifumi didn’t need convincing. She probably knew she needed a fix like this as well. All the built-up stress has to go somewhere. Plus, she looks like she could hold her own against a wyvern. Should be fine. To seal the deal, the handlers made a prayer under the Sapphire Star.  _ May the Sapphire Star’s guidance bring them home safe and sound, _ thought Hera.  _ A calculated move by Hera of Moga, as all my moves are _ .

  
“ _ May the Sapphire Star’s guidance end my nightmares. _ ”


End file.
